Narnia fic bits: Peter/Narnia(/Edmund) and Peta/Caspian

[bedlamsbard]

"Pete," Edmund says softly from the open door of the cave, and Peter glances up from the maps he's studying. I've never seen you without a god-damned map, Edmund had said to him once. And not a one of them's ever of Narnia. I know Narnia, Peter had replied. It's everywhere else that's the problem.

"Ed?" Peter says, but doesn't move to set the maps aside.

Edmund shuts the door behind him, feeling the latch catch -- who the hell installed a latch on a door in a cave? -- and reaches down to pull his tunic off over his head, dropping it on the floor. Peter starts up, scattering scraps of paper to either side of him and snaps, "What the hell are you doing --"

Do you know, Edmund had asked him once, half-joking and half-serious, if it's me and not her? Peter had looked at him like he was insane and said, Of course.

"I've been out there," Edmund says, feeling reckless and coolly calculated all at once, undoing the laces at the collar of his shirt as Peter stands frozen, something dark flickering in his eyes. "Narnia needs this. You need this."

Peter's eyes glance up and down his body, once, then he looks away, face flushing crimson. "If she's not here, it's just sex," he says, and manages to sound like the words hurt him to say. "It's just -- Ed, I know what it's like out there. She's in my head, for the love of God!"

"Then she'll come, won't she?" Edmund says, pulling his shirt off too. He stands shiveriing for a moment in nothing but his breeches, then leans down to pull his boots off.

"Just stop," Peter says, suddenly very close. Edmund looks up to see Peter standing next to him, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. "I don't --"

Edmund straightens, kicking his boots aside, and reaches for him. Peter catches his wrist, and they both shudder at the spark that leaps from Peter's skin to Edmund's. "Yes," Edmund says. "You do."

Peter freezes, his eyes wide, but his pupils are already blown dark and Edmund can feel the tremor in his hand. "Ed," he says, and his voice is shaking too, "tell me not to do this."

"You know I won't," Edmund replies steadily, even though he'd expected Narnia to take over just about now. Hell, he'd expected Narnia to take over as soon as he got back to the How, in range of Peter. But his mind is silent now; he's as alone in his own head as he usually is, and that's wrong.

At least Peter looks like he has company in the back of his skull. Although Edmund's not sure exactly when that started counting as a good thing.

Peter reaches forward with his free hand, tilting Edmund's chin up with two fingers. When he kisses him, it's soft and light, no tongue at all -- a question and not an answer.

And she's there.

It's the same gut-punch it always is, a sudden stripping away of all control, leaving him a stranger with his own skin. Watching, he can see Peter react to the change, relaxing visibly as the kiss turns to desperate want, Narnia -- Edmund -- shoving him back across the floor to his bedroll.

"Baby," he says, hands on her face -- and Edmund can feel them, familiar and callused, like Peter's touching him --

She digs her fingers into his shoulders once he's gotten his shirt off. "You left me," she says viciously, the words vibrating in Edmund's throat. "You left me and they hurt me and you left me --"

She sounds half-mad, or more than, and Edmund's aware of the edges of it beating at his consciousness. Peter draws one shaky breath, then another, his face drawn and strained. "I didn't --" he says, then stops, breathing hard as she gets the rest of his clothes off and wraps her hand around his cock. "Baby."

She shuts him up by kissing him, hard and messy, drawing blood as she digs her teeth into his lip. Peter kisses her back, hands across her back, pulling her down on top of him.





"Caspian," Peta says desperately as he pushes her skirts up around his waist and drops to his knees in front of her. He bunches the thick fabric in one hand and kisses the inside of her thigh, a butterfly brush of his lips, and then his mouth is on her, tongue swiping over her clit as Peta's hips come off the wall.

He presses two fingers into her from behind, silk brushing the back of his hand as he flicks his wrist experimentally. She's soaking wet and ready, one hand cupping his head while the other presses flat against the wall, and Caspian breathes in the taste of her. A hint of teeth makes her swear, the words liquid and strange as her hand tightens in his hair, and he moves his fingers inside her, trying to find the spot that makes her scream.

They're just off the castle's great hall, in a dark, narrow hallway that the servants use. They're close enough to the great hall that the music isn't at all muffled; Caspian can hear the light sound of voices beyond the tapestry that conceals the entrance to the passageway, Queen Lucy's laugh rising suddenly over the white noise of the crowd. Anyone could see them. His people -- who'd only see their prince kneeling before the High Queen of Narnia -- or hers. He doesn't care. Neither does Peta.

Peta makes a muffled noise, short and sharp, and Caspian takes his mouth away from her to look up. She has the edge of her free hand between her teeth, biting down to keep from screaming. Caspian mouths her clit again and twists his fingers, feeling the moment Peta breaks.

He kisses her with her taste still sharp and sweet together on his lips and tongue and Peta kisses him back, her mouth never breaking from his as she gets his trousers open. He braces his hands on the wall as he enters her. Peta wraps her legs around his waist, held up between his body and the wall. He drags his teeth over her neck, listening to her gasps. He pushes into her and Peta pushes back, words a broken stream in a multitude of dead languages, half prayer and half curse. Caspian muffles his gasps on her neck, feeling her clench around him with every stroke. He's losing his rhythm, speeding up and slamming her back against the wall, getting deeper inside her. The silk of her skirt laps against his bared thighs, and then Peta catches his head in both of her hands and pulls him up to kiss her, graceless and indelicate.

Caspian comes so hard he blacks out. When he manages to open his eyes again, breathing hard, it's to find himself sitting on the cold floor, Peta warm and welcome in his lap. He rubs his knuckles idly over his hip and she ducks her head to kiss him. "God, you're beautiful," she says softly. "I can't wait to get you in a bed."

Caspian draws in a sharp breath at the mental image of Peta spread out on his bed, naked and golden and his. "Tonight," he says, a rasp in his voice.

Peta kisses him one more time, her hand curling around the back of his neck, then straightens, freeing him so he can fix his clothes as she smoothes down her rumpled skirts. Caspian braces one hand on the wall as he gets up, tugging down the front of his tunic and running his hands through his hair. Peta rubs the edge of her thumb over the red mark on her neck -- one of the red marks on her neck. It's more than obvious what they've been doing.

"Peta," Caspian says softly, and when she turns toward him he presses her back against the wall and kisses her, a slow, langorous kiss that goes on long enough that his cock starts to get interested again. He steps back reluctantly.

"Tonight," Peta repeats after a moment, touching her swollen lips. She looks at Caspian with eyes that are suddenly wide with something unreadable. "Ed will be throwing a fit," she says at last.

Caspian offers her his arm and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow, picture of elegant High Queen except for the marks on her neck. "He saw us leave the great hall," he admits, and sees the flush start to spread across Peta's face.

"Of course he did," she hisses, pulling the edge of the tapestry aside to glance out, then slips into the great hall with Caspian just behind her.

Comments

[saturns-hikari.livejournal.com]

mwhahahaha!!!!

oh geez. I think you broke my brain.
Edmund/Peter/(Narnia) is my new OT3 (or would that be OT2.5?)

[saturns-hikari.livejournal.com]

and I just realized that I went Edmund/Peter/(Narnia) and *you* went Peter/Narnia(/Edmund) and that makes it completely different!
I don't know what/s more fucked up, Peter/Narnia with Narnia *using* Edmund, or Peter/Edmund with Narnia desperate to get in on the action- or rather Narnia as completely essential and behind everything they do.

[lyamainu.livejournal.com]

NARNIA/PETER!!!!! OH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

*esctatic bouncing around her house, to her husband's confusion*

And the Peta/Caspian was hot. H-O-T - hot.

[katakokk.livejournal.com]

I has been horrified.

*dies*

Granted, it was amazing writing like always and I couldn't help but click because of my irrational love for Edmund, but yes. I am dead.

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

"Not-porn", my ass! You made me blush, which takes some doing. Holy cow!


You really caught that edge of discomfort...the spark between them when they touched, because whoever's driving the body, it's still Edmund's and those two *know* each other so thoroughly...and you showed how Narnia and Peter use him, even though he's willing. The damage that Narnia's sustained-and *that* is the voice and emotions tormenting Peter in the back of his mind and making him less than stable.

It's a good thing there *is* a latch on that door in a cave, or *somebody*-and I'm betting on Caspian, it's his luck-would be getting an eyeful.



Regarding the Peta/Caspian piece, I doubt Ed would need to *see* them leave the hall to know what they've been doing...how well do emotions reverberate down the link? *snickers*


But yeah. The first one makes me all grabby hands. :)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Hey, if it's any help, it creeped me out, and I was writing it. There's a reason it stops so abruptly; I went, "Oh my God, they are so fucked up," and couldn't write any more.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*hands you the duct tape* Thanks, maybe?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I don't think I've ever said this before, but that is such a pretty icon. Eye candy!

They're both pretty fucked up -- I pretty much got to the point where Narnia took over Edmund (as she is wont to do) and went, "Oh my God, even I can't write this."

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Yay!

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Emoti-porn, maybe. And it creeped me the hell out; I had to stop abruptly because as uncomfortable as this is to write from Peter's POV, it's a thousand times worse from Edmund's because he's involved -- and he's not. And the pronouns are a bitch, too.

Peter's not stable. Edmund's close. Narnia's definitely not. Although -- and it doesn't come through here -- this is the first time it's Edmund who makes the first move.

No, seriously, have I mentioned how much this disturbed me to write once we got into the part where Narnia took over? It disturbed me a lot.


Oh, I'd hope by this point Edmund's managed to block out Peta and Caspian as much as he can, considering how often they've been fucking. But as soon as he notices they're gone, he and everyone else is going to know exactly where they've gone. Of course, since this is when Peta realizes Caspian's in love with her, who knows...

(On the other hand, who knows what Peta feels if Peter and Edmund and Narnia start at their tricks?)

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH.... *dies*

hot. hot hot hot hot hot.

aaand i'm sitting in my parents' kitchen while they're pottering around around me. This is WEIRD.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I BLAME THE SKIRT. *offers ice, and also resurrection*

I was writing it while my roommate was sitting across from me writing her English paper.

*sings* Peta and Caspian, sitting in a tree...

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

YOU SHOULD WEAR SKIRT MORE OFTEN.

ahah poor unsuspecting roommate.

In a tree. And in the hallway. And out the back of the How.

On the royal dias. *dies at mere thought*

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

*reads the Peter/Ed*

Yep, that's totally screwed up. Oh, Edmund. Edmund, Edmund, Edmund. *heart breaks*

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Well, I shall be wearing one later today for my band audition.

IF MY ROOMMATE ONLY KNEW.

On the Stone Table?

Well, that's one way of dispelling old ghosts...

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I think I have even hit my limit for screwed-up there. *shakes head* Oh, Edmund. Oh, Peter. Narnia...I'm not sure on that note.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

No, not on the stone table, that would be kind of ew. The throne room, though?

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

pssht. Clearly, I do not care about Peter. Well, your peter. He's interesting, but I don't like him. Edmund, on the other hand... he went in there all alone in his head, knowing what would happen. *cuddles him*

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Hell, at this point I don't like Peter, which is probably a bad sign. *shakes head*

But Edmund, Christ, and wow. Because he knows.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Tomorrow, workers are coming to remove the one throne, to expand the dais to fit four, remove the long lines of council chairs. Caspian stands in the centaur of the room and looks around, trying to decide if he wants to memorize this -- or not.

He'd grown up to expect that throne. No one will have it now.

He hears the door open and shut behind him, but doesn't turn. There's only one person that would know to look for him here.

"Did you want it badly?" Peta asks softly from the back of the room.

"I don't know," Caspian says. He takes a step forward, then another, until he can touch the cool, dark wood.

Caspian the Conqueror spilled more blood for that wood than anyone cares to admit. Still, his fingers linger on it.

"I didn't expect," he says finally, slowly, "not to get it. I thought --"

"Narnia won't survive divided," Peta says. She's closer now; he hasn't heard her footsteps. "I won't do that to her."

"No," Caspian says. He doesn't know if he means, No, you wouldn't, or, No, you shouldn't.

Peta's hand suddenly covers his, fingers interlacing as he turns toward her in surprise. "It's just a chair," she says.

"No," Caspian says. "It's not."

"It can be."

"No," he says again, for the third time now. "It will always be --"

Peta pushes him back into it and climbs onto his lap, kissing him hard. Automatically, Caspian's hands come up to brace her hips as Peta twists, settling herself firmly on him. "Just a chair," she says again against his mouth.

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

I had to come back and re-read, of course.


It *should* creep you out. What Narnia does to Edmund is NOT good, it's possession, using, and rather abusive; but then, I've long thought that she's not particularly concerned with the benefit of her people, as such. She's concerned with her own survival and health, and with the welfare of her bonded King. Anything else you can get out of her is gravy. It doesn't make her bad...it makes her an inhuman entity, trying to survive in often awful circumstances. *She* didn't ask to become sentient!

I feel sorry for Peter, in a way...if he'd known the toll it would have taken on his brother over the years, he'd surely have refused. (The toll on himself is all right, though. *rolls eyes*) They're all victims in a way of incomplete information, deliberate or not, passed on by the Narnians. My only problem with Peter is how...hm, ungrateful or unappreciative he often comes across. But I think that's largely out of guilt-he feels like hell, can't deal with it, doesn't know what to say or do to make it better, and he can't *stop* needing things and is stubborn about taking help, so he acts like an aggressive bastard and focusses on Narnia because he *can* do something for her, at least. Or something like that.

It's not like Edmund expects to be fawned over, though...just a little thank you, now and then, some kind of acknowledgement that he exists as himself, not just a tool for their use. *muses*

I'd say that fits well with Edmund's sarcastic "you're welcome" comment after the fight at the train station, and the awkward overture of appreciation by Peter, at the duel. I don't think they'd even need to talk about it, after, because they both know what was being said and the acknowledgement might be enough.

What Edmund wants most of all, I think, in book or movie verse, is to have Peter's approval. I read a meta on Peter's character once that said his greatest faults were pride (wanting to be self-sufficient and not ask for Aslan's help...if you can call that a fault) and not realizing the effects he has on people and his ability to lead them even when he's not trying. I think it's a pretty good summation, again, for book or movie verse. I've always liked Peter's ability to apologize and admit when he's wrong; I don't know if you're bringing that out in your characterization, but it's an important part of canon Peter. I've always liked his protectiveness of his family, too. :)

Again, writing this part may have creeped you out, but that's good-you really caught the vibes of wrong-but-hot that this situation has.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

It creeps me out so much I may now be incapable of writing explicit Peter/Narnia for the rest of my life. There's a reason I'm not, at the moment, writing anything from Peter's POV.

And yet -- what Narnia does is understandable, from a certain point of view. She has to survive, after all. And it's a two way street -- without Peter being who he is, they wouldn't have as much of a connection; Edmund wouldn't be so...damaged. Neither would Peter. (Peta, for example, doesn't half these problems. Nor does her Edmund.)

But for Narnia's purposes (and I kind of have the feeling I missed the entire middle section of this argument here, uh, whoops?), Peter is perfect. He's young -- malleable, without ties to anyone or anything else except his family, and that's just a bonus, isn't it? A brother and two sisters isn't a wife and children; just enough to ground, not enough to hobble. He has no one else to turn to. He's king -- and Cair Paravel wants him. He's aggressive, he's hot-headed, he's overprotective -- a guardian, a defender. He has a sense of righteous duty; he wants so very badly to be needed and used. (Martyr complex, oh my God.) And he can lead people -- and the people of Narnia are willing to follow him. Who better could Narnia have picked?

Even if it hadn't been for the ritual, Edmund wouldn't have been happy watching his brother fall. Knowing that he's a part of that, part of the reason --

God, they're all so screwed up, I can't even.

[saturns-hikari.livejournal.com]

thank you! I didn't make it, I just use it!:) fairie_dance makes lovely icons!

fucked up-- yes, but I feel like that just makes me want more. Like that's so horrible, poor Edmund and Peter (and yes Narnia!)
To be honest, I don't think I could write it. One of my angry!teen characters for my short fiction class leans towards violent fantasies and it's really difficult to write. You feel so wrong but at the same time I *have* to write it because it's so integral to his character.
so um kudos? for writing something really disturbing!

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I have finally managed to break my own brain. I really have no words on this note. It's...necessary, for Narnia, but it's not comfortable. Or healthy. Or safe.

Um, yay?

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

GUH.

shouldn'ta opened email while on family trip, clearly. GUH.